SuperWho Drabbles
by ZombieChick67
Summary: Here is a small collection of meetings and scenarios between characters from Supernatural and Doctor Who. Requests are always welcome as I am a very uncreative person. There will be no M rated drabbles in here, so sorry about that.
1. The Pit: Rose and Dean

_I've decided to make a collection of SuperWho drabbles (original, I know). If you want, you can leave a review or PM me asking for a meeting between two characters from Supernatural and Doctor Who. I probably won't update very often, but check back every so often and you may find a new chapter waiting for you. All feedback is appreciated. _

_In which Dean meets Rose face to face as she reveals the truth behind his deal. _

* * *

Dean stood face to face with the blonde girl he'd seen everywhere for the last two months. It was strange to see her entirely, instead of a brief glimpse of passing pink on the streets, or at the Laundromat asking if he could "spot her a few quid". It was like she was a painting that he had passed a thousand times, but had never slowed down enough to really look at it. Admire it.

"Dean. Dean Winchester, yeah?" she asked, raising her hand to tuck a wayward piece of yellow hair behind her ear. It was a windy night in the local Boston park, the wind bustling through the blushing treetops and making the leaves on the ground dance. Her Cockney accent was the only spot of warmth that the night held, her breath making warm steam billow from her lips and gently dissipate into the dark sky.

"Yeah, that's me alright," Dean returned, shifting his freezing hands into the pockets of his dad's old leather jacket. "And who exactly are you, sweetheart?"

The girl smiled, just a bit, as though the word didn't faze her in the slightest. It probably didn't – didn't the Brits say 'sweetheart' all the time or something? Dean wasn't sure, seeing as all of his knowledge about England and Britain came from the old English comedies that used to play all the time on BBC America. It was the only channel that a lot of crappy motels had when he was a kid, so that's what he watched when he was on babysitting detail (which was 90 per cent of the time).

"I'm Rose."

"Rose Tyler."

Rose bobbed her head a bit, brushing back more animated hair as she did. "It don't really matter, does it though? You didn't come here to know my name, Dean. We both know that you want to know about…"

"My deal," Dean said flatly, finishing her incomplete sentence. "And if there's a way to get my soul back without killing Sammy. I don't know who you are lady, but I do know that if the demons are trying this hard to keep me from meeting you, then you must know something." His dry tongue ran over his cracked lips in the vain hope of wetting them.

"Dean, there are things called 'fixed points in time'-" Rose began, sounding as though she had repeated what she was going to say a million times, but Dean felt his terror-fuelled patience wear very thin.

"Yeah, yeah, I've seen all the Back to the Future movies, Barbie – I know what a fixed point in time is. There's something that happens in the past and if you go back and change it, the future will be all jacked up, and then your mom hits on you and Biff becomes a billionaire, the whole shebang."

"No, Dean, that's not the whole thing," Rose said, ignoring his jokes and talking very seriously to him. Deadly serious. "A fixed point in time is something that _cannot be changed_. It has to go ahead or else all of time and reality will be altered. The universe can cease to exist because of one tiny event, like if you were to… turn left at an intersection. The smallest thing can change the world."

"This is not a small – Me losing my soul and being sent to Hell for all of eternity isn't some small thing, lady," Dean snapped. His voice shot through the air and startled some birds that had been looking hopefully for food. They scattered across the black background of night, leaving only the stars and a few feathers in their wake.

The silence stretched between the Nightmare's Nightmare and the Bad Wolf. It was a chasm between them and their worlds, but they both were grimly aware of everything that the silence revealed.

Dean cleared his throat, and said in a gravely, sombre voice, "There's no way of saving me from the Pit, is there?"

Rose blinked her big brown eyes at him, filled with the sadness of time.

"I'm so sorry, but… you're going to die"


	2. Regeneration: Sam, Dean, NineTen, Rose

_One in which the Doctor regenerates in front of Rose, the Winchesters, Ruby, and the angels. _

* * *

"Shut your eyes!"

It was the last sentence that the Time Lord could articulate before a massive surge of regeneration energy exploded out of his every pore, shifting his atoms, changing his face. He was becoming a new man again. And so soon, too. It felt like he had had no time at all as the gruff-looking man with the great big flapping ears and black leather jacket.

But soon enough, he was losing all thought processing, his entire soul being consumed by the blinding golden light of regeneration.

In the dark barn, everyone shielded their eyes – human, demon and angel alike. The Doctor had become a blinding ball of impossible light, and the most anyone could do was to try not to look, and inevitably fail because it was the DNA of the last Time Lord reconstructing itself and how often are you going to see that?

The light gradually began to fade, and then all at once it was sucked away, leaving a circle of human bodies gaping at the tall, lanky brunette man gasping in front of them, wearing the leather jacket that hung limply from his skinny shoulders where it used to hug the broader muscles of his previous self.

The angels of course knew who the Doctor was – the hushed rumours of the Lonely God wandering about England, hopping about time as he pleased had always been popular in the garrisons of Heaven, but it was a very different thing to actually witness the soul of a Time Lord rebuilding itself before their eyes, dodging death by adopting the body of a new man.

Castiel tore his eyes from the Doctor to look at the demon, Ruby. She was pale as a sheet, grasping uselessly at handfuls of straw from her position of cowering on the ground. Her jet black eyes kept darting around at every person, seemingly at a loss for what to do. Sam and Dean Winchester also were stunned out of their astoundingly mortal minds. It would've been almost comical, if Castiel weren't sharing the exact same feelings on the inside.

But a bit apart from the rest of the group, clutching a wooden pillar to support her jelly legs, Rose Tyler was gaping at where her Doctor had once stood. The tall brown hair and skinny build - she could've sworn that she had seen that face before. On New Year's Eve, a few years ago…


	3. Flying: Eleven, Dean, Sexy

_One in which the Doctor reveals Dean's fear of flying while crashing the TARDIS. _

* * *

"Doc? What's going on, what's that noise?" Dean said, worried by the great number of lights that had suddenly burst into life around him. There was a huge column of something steam-like that was escaping from the big upy-downy thing in the middle of the console, and alarms had begun yelling like a chorus of cats.

The Time Lord was running around the TARDIS like a mad chicken, yelling "No no no no, it's nothing, just-just, erm - nothing! Don't panic! We're going to be fine!" in a very panicked voice. He was flicking levers and pushing shiny chrome buttons that were flashing at him as fast as he could put his hands on them. Just then the entire floor was heaved up, and the two men were thrown onto the ground violently.

The Doctor sprang right back up like a Jack-in-the-box and zoomed straight back to the console to keep pressing buttons and frantically asking to know what he had done to annoy the TARDIS, and demanding to know whether or not she was having a fit because he had spilt some yoghurt on the temporal switches ("I told you I would clean it up!").

Luckily for him, Dean was used to bruising and generally getting his ass handed to him, and he wasn't going to stand by while the Doc's ship hit space cows or cosmic speed bumps or whatever the Hell was causing the damn shaking. Stumbling to his feet and keeping a death-grip on the handrails, Dean managed to scoot around to the Doctor as he flapped his hands, jiggled his feet, and yelled, "I'M SORRY!" over and over.

"Doc!" Dean yelled, risking another fall as he took one hand off of the rails to grab onto the tweed of the Doctor's jacket. The ship lurched again, and Dean was mentally transported back to the terrifying plane trip he had with Sam as they were forced to perform a dangerous exorcism in mid-flight. The plane had dropped almost a thousand feet, and Dean was only a little ashamed to admit that he very, _very_ nearly peed himself.

"Dean!" The Doctor returned, throwing his hands behind him to grab onto something as the TARDIS groaned loudly and tilted this way and that.

"Doc, what's going on? Are we c-crashing?" Dean said, praying that he hadn't heard the stammer in Dean's question. After everything that he'd been through – death a hundred times, being in Hell for four decades, all the broken bones, all the crazy bar chicks – he was still a nervous flyer. For God's sake.

"Um, well since there are so many fixed points in your timeline, Dean, any travel through time is loaded with potential paradoxes, and in the time vortex, there is an increased risk of 53% that with any sort of wibbley-"

"ARE WE CRASHING?!"

"Yes, alright, we're crashing!" The Doctor yelled back. "Grab onto something tight, close your eyes and think -"

Everything was flipped around in an instant, and Dean felt like he was in a washing machine as he got rolled around again and again and again, hitting his head, arms, legs (and even a memorable whack right in the balls). By some miracle, when he and the Doctor were being sent ass-over-elbows, Dean had made his way into a corner somewhere. Forcing himself to stand up, he braced himself, putting an arm on each wall and just yelled out of terror.

Over his bellows, he could swear that he heard the Doctor's voice yell out, "GERONIMO!"

One violent thump later and the TARDIS stopped screaming at them and instead let out a long groan-sigh thing. With his eyes stuck in a wide-eyed stare, Dean noticed the Doctor's head pop up from over the side of the railings, his hair in absolute disarray.

"Heh, 'Any landing you can walk away from', right?" he grinned over at Dean.

Dean just shook his head, and croaked, "Never… flying… again…"

* * *

_Poor baby. Inspired by a post on Tumblr. Review please._


	4. Little Blue Bag: Baby and Sexy

_One in which Baby meets Sexy. May be continued, depending on reviews. _

* * *

"Oh crap, sorry!"

The athletic brunette had just crashed into another woman on the street, spilling the contents of her bag everywhere. She had been in a rush, and it seemed like the woman had just materialised out of nowhere, but whatever the case, she had still bumped into her. The brunette dropped to her knees and started to collect the bits and pieces within arms' reach and stuffing them back into the woman's dark blue bag.

"It's alright, Baby," the woman smiled. The brunette stiffened, and only then realised that the other woman was still on her feet. Craning her neck up over her leather-clad shoulder, the athlete blinked up at the woman smiling down at her. Unwilling to break eye contact, Baby wiped her hands on her ratty jeans and got up off of the cement.

"How'd you know my name?" she asked the stranger suspiciously. The woman just smiled.

Baby looked her up and down, her silvery eyes flicking over the other woman more curiously than cautiously. The stranger wore old clothes, but also a digital watch that looked silvery and futuristic. Her dress that she wore was quite raggedy, and looked as though she had seen some rough times. Her hair was a wild nest of chocolate curls that danced in every direction. Her eyes were dark. Baby couldn't decide exactly which colour they were, but settled uncertainly on a sort of deep, dark blue. Baby averted her eyes before too long, uncomfortable with the way they seemed too old for the rest of her body.

"Oh Baby, I know a lot of things," the woman grinned. Her smile was crooked and it seemed like another universe was hiding just past her lips, a universe full of secrets. "Like you're a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, off the assembly line on April 24, 2767 – No, sorry 1967. Years are tricky – add a few more zeroes on to make the year pretty and suddenly you're the bad guy. You arrived at Rainbow Motors in Lawrence, Kansas in 1379 (no, bother it was 1973, wasn't it?), and your family named you Baby.

Sometimes they call you sweetheart, but the tall brown-y one sometimes calls you "the car", which makes the shorter brushy-haired one irritated. Oh, I remember next week when he called you a "hunka-junk", and the brushy one got so mad that he swapped –"

"Look, no offense lady, but I don't know what kind of petrol you're sniffing, but I only take premium, thanks," Baby interrupted. It was super freaky listening to some crazy lady tell you about your birth and your next week in the same story. Baby was a tougher make than most, but even she had her limits.

"Sorry, love," the woman said, apology written in the stars in her eyes. "I get a bit carried away forever – no, no, what's the phrase? Always? Never? Maybe, once, almost?"

"Sometimes?" Baby suggested, feeling a little bad for the lady that looked so crazy that she would put Norman Bates to shame.

"Correctamundo!" The lady exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, I never did the name thing! You have to ask me, though."

"Uh, ask you what?" Baby asked apprehensively. She paused and cleared her throat, a bit self-conscious of the way that the Legos rattled and clattered around in her vents from where Dean had shoved them in a long time ago.

"The question," the woman insisted "See, _this_ is the question that can be asked. Nothing's going to happen when this question is asked."

"… What's your name?"

"Dunno," the woman beamed promptly "But I think he calls me… Sexy."

"Who's…? You know what: never mind. Okey dokey, Sexy, it was real nice to meet you, but I've gotta get going. Let's just clean up some more stuff, and I'll be on my way, yeah?" Baby said carefully. The last thing that she wanted was to upset this bizarre, cosmic woman, so once more she got onto her hands and knees to cram some stuff into her bag that was still laying crookedly where it had dropped onto the ground.

'_The Hell kind of crap does this bird keep in her bag?_' Baby wondered. There were bags and bags of jelly babies, a box of custard powder, some 80's 3D glasses, a pair of round reading glasses, a finely crafted pocket-watch, and… was that a flute-recorder?

Wait a sec…

The blue bag that Sexy had was quite small. A bag of that size couldn't possibly hold all of the crap on the sidewalk. Sneakily, Baby stuck her hand inside the bag to try and gauge just how big it was on the inside- She could fit her whole arm in there. Slowly, Baby tucked a brown lock behind her ear, and mumbled to herself, "Huh. Bigger on the inside, I guess."


	5. I promised!: Ten and Sam

The Doctor was old. Very old indeed.

_"SAM!"_

He'd witnessed a thousand years come and go; seen galaxies and universes born in explosions of stars and light, and he'd also witnessed those same galaxies and universes collapse and die in equal glory. Some of the deaths were events never to be forgotten – the stars and planets filling every inch of space that the eye could see with colour and surges of power – but some deaths were quiet. Sad.

It was when the galaxies gave up and drifted apart over millennia, star by star letting itself drift away; slowly expanding so much that the suns bumped into and destroyed the very planets that they had given life to in fatal embraces of fire. When life gradually changed into death.

_"Oh no, please Sam, no!"_

That was what made the Doctor sad.

_"Wake up! God, Sam, please wake up!"_

Doctors were meant to help people, to bargain with the Grim Reaper and stave of eternal darkness for just one more day. Doctors saved people. So what good was a Doctor if he couldn't save a life at all anymore?

_"No… No no no nonono, NO! Sam, stay with me. Sam, please!" The Doctor's voice, which had worn itself hoarse from trying to call Sam back from where he couldn't be retrieved, and dropped down to a raspy whisper, croaky and wracked in pain. _

_"I promised him I'd keep you safe… You have to wake up because I promised him! I promised Dean that I would keep his little brother safe! Sam, please: I promised! I promised, I-I promised…"_

When the lights faded – from eyes, from stars – it made him suffer. Especially when those eyes used to hold such stars and galaxies of wonder. Seeing those homes of hope and trust die was worse than anything that the Doctor could bear. But the worst thing that he knew – the very worst – was telling someone who had trusted you with their galaxies and the thing that they held dearest to their souls that you had completely let them down and let their stars and sun die in your arms without them.

Dean and Sam had split up on their hunt, and Dean had entrusted the life of his little brother to the Doctor. Sam was dead, and it was all the Doctor's fault.

"I'm so sorry," The Doctor whispered to Sam's blank face. He shakily moved the long brown hair from the Winchester's face and gently shut his eyelids while his own eyes filled with tears.

"I'm so so sorry."


End file.
